A Foolish Fisherman's Tale of his Love for the Lady With The Umbrella
by Noeybody
Summary: Just a one-shot of the painting "Fisherman" who has fallen in love with "Lady with the Umbrella".


She was beautiful.

Her long silky brown hair flowed to her waist. Her beautiful dress fit perfectly on her body, bringing out her elegance.

Not that she wouldn't still be elegant if she wore different apparels. In fact, she would be the one decorating the cloths, and not the other way around.

She shone. She was flawless. She always withstood the rain pelting down on her surroundings, drenching everything around her.

She did have an object of affection. Her red umbrella, always sheltering her from the cruel, merciless water that threatened to wet her dress and leave her shivering in the darkness. It was her saviour, her only colour in the monochrome world she was born in.

And never have I stopped envying the umbrella.

It's a foolish thing, I know, for a man to envy a non-animate object -even when we are paintings ourselves. But I vied so much to receive her attention, her love. I thirsted for those slender hands to touch me. I wanted so much to have her speak to me, laughing and radiating that optimism she always wore.

If only. . .

Alas, I was only a simple stick figure when seen by far, unlike her, who even distance could not cover her light. Even when looked at with detail, I was but a simple fisherman, standing on a boat with only a fishing rod all day. I desperately wanted to strike a conversation with her, but I simply did not have the necessary courage. Every time I managed to meet her, I couldn't even get a word out of my mouth. Even if I did, by the time I found an interesting subject, she was already gone.

We do have a lot in common, in a way. We were both but silhouettes, with a fairly simple background, and a special object to keep us company. We had the same creator, born from the same creativity mixed with paint.

Though that was where it ended- I could never hope to match up her elegance and grace.

I couldn't even hope to receive as much attention as that wretched umbrella.

So I stayed for quite a long time, just staying by the side and watching.

Then a day came. I dozed off a bit, and when I woke, she wasn't there. I panicked for a moment, thinking that some cruel visitor had taken her off. My painted heart nearly stopped until I noticed the umbrella.

I sighed in relief- She might have just gone elsewhere for a while. Wherever she went, it was probably dry, for her umbrella remained.

I wondered dully where she might have disappeared to. Even the three mannequin heads- who never attempted to interact with her, preferring to survey the room with their cold gazes- were gone. Only the umbrella was left.

It suddenly dawned on me- Only the umbrella was left.

I was alone with the object that, bathed in my love's affections, and seemed to taunt me with that fact.

If it was gone- I thought- If it was gone-

Perhaps she might notice me.

It was a rash conclusion to come to. But I was already panicking due to her absence, and the adrenaline from the fact that I was alone with my (supposed) rival surged through my fabricated body. If I had been a bit more sensible - even a paint drop more sensible - It would have dawned upon me that its absence would not give her a reason to suddenly notice me.

Unfortunately, sensibility was the last thing I had then. Only loathing for the umbrella and bitter excitement of confrontation filled me.

I flung my fishing rod - sent it whipping out of the painting - through the air - and right at the hook of the umbrella.

I smiled. My aim was excellent.

I raised my hands griping the rod quickly, and the fishing rod came swinging back like a boomerang.

With the umbrella.

Success. That was the thought that engulfed my foolish mind.

I swung the rod once more, in a different direction this time, and watched the umbrella being flung into a gas-filled room. The umbrella's scarlet canopy blended in with the blood-red atmosphere. I watched smugly, my rival being trapped in a toxic room.

When she came back, I could see the panicked gesture of her silhouette. She motioned to the mannequin heads for the whereabouts of her beloved companion, but none of them could answer. Even through the completely pitch-blackness of her face, it was evident when she burst into tears.

Anxiety tugged my mind. Surely this wasn't what I wanted. I would never have wished for her weeping face. As she collapsed onto the damp floor, burying her head in her hands, my heart almost seemed to tear itself into pieces. The umbrella was far away, at the room beneath me - there was no way I could fling my fishing rod such that the hook could catch it back. I didn't even have the courage to return it to her, even if I succeeded. If only I could turn back time.

But I was too much of a coward, and could only helplessly watch my love's sobbing figure.

Time passed. I heard the pattering of footsteps. I took a peek. Two young girls. One I identified as Mary. The girl with the bouncy blond had who wanted to get out. I had thought she would give up, but it seemed she wouldn't. I hoped she would abandon that dream before she hurt someone. She would regret it forever. Having felt the despair after making a horrible, permanent decision, I would never wish for that innocent girl to experience such a thing. Another was a young lady with brown hair and red eyes. She answered to Mary's endless chatter, and seemed anxious. I guessed that she would be a visitor. I climbed into my boat and laid down. I really didn't want to take part in this. I would much rather be left alone now, especially due to the pain in my heart. I slowly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of crying women and lost items.

The clack of a key opening a door somewhere jerked me out of my sleep. I stood up, fishing pole in hand, barely awake.

Even sleep had not given me a break from that regrettable decision, and I, as a result, was definitely not feeling the best. I felt my fishing rod move slightly, along with an exclamation of "Ow!". Serves the fool right, I thought irritatedly, for touching the sharp hook. Then I heard a click, and felt the weight on my hook. The same weight I felt when moving the umbrella.

My heart raced. This was the opportunity right at my hands, an opportunity to repent for my mistake. A chance given by god. I tugged a little. It was definitely the umbrella. The rival right in my hands. I pulled it higher, and the full ugly body, dripping wet, same red as ever, showed itself. The loathing sprung in me again. Perhaps I should just fling this thing away again- Never let it see light-

But then the vision of my love, head hung in grief, came back to me.

I will return this. Mary and the visitor girl passed me. I took the umbrella out of my painting and set it in front of them.

Mary knew the paintings here. She would know where this would go, if the visitor girl could not figure that out.

Mary's eyes lit up in recognition, and she stared at me suspiciously. I tried my best to avoid her gaze. At last, she turned back, and chatted amiably with the visitor girl. They left my area, and entered the room where the lady was at.

The sound of rain reached my ear, along with her joyous laughter.

Her laughter alone, filled with pure happiness and bliss, was enough to clear all of my negative feelings.

I smiled and finally relaxed.

Loneliness- a want to be at her side- tugged at the corner of my heart, but I gently ignored it.

Her happiness was enough.

Some time passed, and the visitors gradually left the room.

I played around with my fishing rod, trying to kill time.

After the return of the umbrella, things had returned to usual.

The Lady still dotted on her umbrella.

Rain still pelted down on her surroundings.

A mannequin head lay broken on the ground, but they never spoke, so it didn't really make a difference.

And the gap between me and her had not changed.

I mulled over this, swinging my fishing rod around in random directions.

Barely seeing where it was going, I swung the rod -

-and the hook happen to catch on her painting's frame.

I froze as a small gasp was emitted from her mouth. She leaned down, and plucked the hook off the frame.

Her eyes followed the fishing line…and met mine.

Time froze.

My heart raced.

I couldn't move.

Her mouth opened, as it formed a curved line.

"Hello!"

Her radiant smile seemed to brighten the room.

Eternity seemed to pass, even for paintings like me who had little sense of time.

But finally, at last,

I found the courage to smile back.

"Hello!"


End file.
